Artistically Misconstrue
by MairiNathaira
Summary: Dean/Seamus Slash - Seamus unexpectedly find Dean’s sketchbook. Why is he so appalled by the subject of the sketches?


**Title: Artistically Misconstrue**

**Author**: Mairi Nathaira

**Rating**: PG-13

**Category**: Romance

**Notes**: Just a little plot bunny due to a messed up sleeping schedule or insomnia.  Thanks to Immi and Titti for betaing.

**Summary**: Seamus unexpectedly find Dean's sketchbook.  Why is he so appalled by the subject of the sketches?

**Pairing**: SF/DT

**Warnings**: Slash

**Dedications**: Dedicated to Marta and Snaples for being one of the many examples to show us lovely and breathtaking HP artwork.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter belongs to Warner Brothers and the wonderful JK Rowling. I do not own them, despite the fact I wish I could own SS, RL, and SB. The only thing that belongs to me is the story itself.

**Feedback**: mairi@aigoo-chamna.net All comments and criticisms are welcomed there. If it's flame then don't bother for I will put them in my trashcan or blog about it and laugh at you.

**

Dean let out a huge sigh as he looked down at his most recently completed sketch.  He smiled to himself and cast the incantation that he had started using at the end of his fifth year.  He blinked tiredly as he turned to his left, to place the sketchbook on top of his night table and glanced around the room.  

Everyone was sleeping or pretending to sleep.  It was the dead of the night.  Neville's snores punctuated the otherwise tomblike silence.  On his left, Seamus, was sleeping soundlessly – quite unusual since he usually tended to thrash in the bed quite a lot.  Seamus was a rather energetic sleeper.  Ron was next to his best friend, also soundlessly asleep as well, but every once in a while shouts of Quidditch instructions could be heard.  This sleeping pattern had developed ever since Ron became the Keeper in his fifth year and unofficial strategist during his sixth year.  The last occupant of this shared dorm had curtains drawn around his bed, and due to silence charms being put up to block his nightmarish screams, Dean couldn't tell if Harry was sleeping or not.

Dean, for sake of privacy, preferred drawing around this time of the night.  No one could bug him, not even Seamus.

"Well, that was one artistic inspiration for the night.  Maybe I'll have one again soon.  That'd be cool."  Dean let out a yawn as he thought that, settled comfortably in the bed and immediately fell asleep.

As Dean slowly drifted into dreamland, one person was still awake.  Seamus.  Seamus Finnigan, who was Dean's best friend, peered curiously up at the sketchbook through the open curtains.  He was tempted to look through the inanimate object that was driving him mad.  Before fifth year, Dean had no problems sharing the book with him, but recently; Dean's been mysteriously secretive and protective about his drawings.

Seamus respected Dean's wishes – really he did!  But his curious nature was too strong for him at times.

He continued to stare at the book; his hands itching madly to just take the object and look.  Despite his yearning, Seamus eventually fell into a restless slumber.

**

"Seamus? Seamus? Seamus…wake up!"  

Dean tried desperately to wake his best friend up.  The "let's-wake-Seamus-up" procedure wasn't an easy one, considering how Seamus was a night owl instead of an early riser.  He shook Seamus' shoulders perhaps a little harder than intended, when the sleeping boy woke up with a sluggish "Ow."

Seamus looked up with bleary eyes.  "What's eating you this morning?"

"You."  Dean rolled his eyes.  "I don't know about you, but we're going to be late, and I figured I'd wake you up before you get into trouble for missing a day's worth of classes."  He hurried to get his books and was making Seamus dizzy.

"Come on, get dressed.  You don't have time for breakfast now."  Dean urged Seamus to get up.  "I'm going to go ahead to our first class.  Don't be late.  You have about fifteen minutes."

Dean left the room and Seamus, finally realising that he was going to be late, threw the blankets aside.  He tried to get up, but his feet got tangled among the mass of sheets and blankets, and so he fell out of the bed unceremoniously.  While falling he banged his head on the night table.  The furniture shook from the impact and Dean's sketchbook dropped next to Seamus, who was at that moment rubbing the sore area of his scalp.

 "That bloody hurt.  I swear I've got two left feet at times."  He was about to get up and run for the shower, when he spotted the sketchbook opened next to him.  Seamus looked at the book and picked it up.  He was about to return the object of his interest back to its original place when a sketch of Harry caught his eyes.  A half-naked Harry.

Seamus gaped at the image with his mouth wide open.  

He quickly flipped through the book and saw page after pages of Harry.  There was Harry eating dinner in the Great Hall, Harry dozing off in Professor Binn's class, Harry practising for Quidditch.  Harry this and Harry that.  

Seamus slowly closed the book and placed it on the night table.  He was in shock.  

"So he has a thing for Harry?  I thought he was straight as a board…" Seamus stood up and sat at the edge of his bed.  "No wonder he wouldn't show any of us, including me.  Wait… does he think I'll get disgusted with him?  That can't be… I mean he knows I don't have a preference."

He sat there for a while before realising that he had class to attend.  Unfortunately it was Double Potions of all classes.  

"Ahhh! Snape is going to murder me!"

Seamus hurriedly got into the showers and came out wet in a record time.  Threw his clothes on and grabbed his class materials and ran off to Double Potions.

He ran into the classroom and took his respective place.  

Snape glared at him.  "So you finally decided to show up and grace your presence to the rest of us?"  

The Slytherins sniggered as Snape continued on.  "Ten points from Gryffindor and a detention, Mr. Finnigan."

Seamus bent his head and glared at the desk.  "Greasy bastard," he muttered.

"Another five points, Mr. Finnigan."

Silently, he swore to himself and got ready to do the assignment on the board.  Dean looked at him sympathetically and whispered, "What took you long, Seamus?"  

He gave his friend a cool look.  "Nothing, Dean.  Just lost track of the time."

They didn't talk for the rest of the class, for the fear of Snape docking more points from Gryffindor.

**

For the rest of the week, Seamus studied his best friend.  He tried to see if Dean was interested in Harry.  Not for the first time he felt envy toward The-Boy-Who-Lived.  He felt as if Harry got everything handed to him on a platter.  And now his best friend might be in love with him.  That made Seamus miserable and he couldn't figure out why that was.  He knew he should be happy that his best friend was interested in someone, and that someone was handsome and had great personality, but he wasn't content.

Seamus looked up from his dinner and saw that Dean was surveying the scene around him.  Was it just his imagination or was Dean staring at Harry for a few seconds too long?

That sickened him.  He lost his appetite.  He stood up and Dean looked at him with a concerned look.  

"Hey, are you alright?"

Seamus nodded.  "Not really hungry."

Dean gave him a weird look.  "But you always have an appetite.  Like Ron, you two are always hungry!"

The other boy shrugged.  "Maybe I'm just tired.  I'm going to go up to the dorms."  Seamus turned and left the table and walked out of the Great Hall.

Dean pondered Seamus' odd behaviour to himself.  For him, Seamus wasn't acting the way he normally would.  He wasn't his lively self and he wasn't boasting whom he was seeing now.  He was acting peculiar and Dean was going to find out why.

**

After giving the password to the portrait, Dean walked up to the boys' seventh year dorm room.  He noticed Seamus sitting on the window seat, looking thoughtfully at the dark skies.

"Hey, enjoying the view?"

"Yeah," Seamus replied without turning around.  "Lovely.  It feels like I'm part of the skies."

"Cool."  Dean nodded and sat down beside him.  When Seamus didn't say anything for a few minute, Dean decided to break the silence.

"Okay, mate.  What's eating up your arse?"

Seamus shrugged and said nothing.

"Aw, come on.  You can tell me.  We are best mate, are we not?  Just spill."

With a glare, Seamus turned to face Dean.  "Don't you mean YOU have something to spill?"

Dean was taken a back.  "What are you blabbering about, Seamus?"

Seamus got up from the window seat and started pacing around the room.  Dean knew well enough that Seamus only paced around the room like this when he was particularly incensed.

He faced Dean with a sad look.  "Look, I accidentally saw your sketchbook, and I know why you don't show us your drawings anymore."  

Dean's eyes were wide opened as realisation dawned upon him. "Look, it's not what you –" Seamus cut him off.

"Oh, don't worry.  I didn't tell Harry anything at all.  I wouldn't do that, mate, but why did you think it was necessary to keep it from me?  I thought we tell each other everything."

"Seamus, listen –" Dean's voice had a desperate tone to it.  " – It's not what you think.  I don't like Harry that way!"

Seamus stared with empty eyes.  "Really?  Judging by the sketchbook, I'd say it's quite the opposite."

Dean stood up and grabbed him by the arms.  "No, it's not Harry, it's…" Dean bit his lower lips.  "It's you."

Seamus stilled and hoarsely asked,  "Me?  But how…?"  Millions of emotions were flying through his head right now.  Finally his brain settled on disbelief and hope.

"I cast a spell on it, so it wouldn't show the true person."  Dean chuckled nervously.  "Come on, we're wizards living in a wizarding world.  Magic works wonders."  He walked around Seamus, and went to the night table to get his book. He cast a spell to neutralise the original one.

He handed the book to Seamus, and leaned back against the night table.  Seamus opened it gently and looked through the pages.  His expression grew increasingly bewildered as he saw that each of the images were of him, instead of Harry.

"Why all these drawings?"  He asked confusedly.

Dean chortled.  "Oh, come on, Seamus.  You saw the drawings and concluded that I liked Harry, so er… just change the name and you're right."  He blushed, though it was hard to tell, but Seamus could see right off the bat.

There was a moment of silence.

"So … you like me?"  Seamus hesitantly asked.

A soft smile came to Dean's face.  "More like love.  I…I've loved you ever since fifth year, Seamus."

The other boy walked up and stopped in front of Dean, put the book down on the night table and stared into his chocolate brown eyes.  "Really?  You love me, the crazy Irish boy that shags every lad or lass he can get his hands on?"

Dean wrapped his arm around the shorter boy and hugged him.  "I love you for who you are, Seamus."  He let go of him and looked at him sadly.  "And I understand if you don't feel the same way about me."  He was about to walk around Seamus, when the other boy grabbed his arm, spun him and kissed him softly on the lips.

Surprised, Dean was still for a moment, before he returned the kiss.  Soft lips against one another, Seamus parted his lips, when he felt Dean's tongue seeking entrance.

They separated due to lack of oxygen and breathed heavily against each other.  Dean leaned his forehead against Seamus'.

"So you feel the same way?"  Dean asked, his hands running up and down on his lover's back.

Seamus grinned and his face lit up.  "Of course, you silly twit.  During the past week I've realised that I am in love with you and I was incredibly jealous of Harry.  I don't think I'd be kissing you if I wasn't going through all that emotional turmoil during the week –"  
  


Dean shushed him with his fingers.

"I get the picture, Finnigan.  Now shut up."  He kissed Seamus' sweet mouth and got lost in the heat of the actions.

Completed July 14, 2003


End file.
